


don't feel quite right

by marinaandrieski



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M, can i PLEASE let these characters be happy, some good old fashioned margo and q bonding time!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marinaandrieski/pseuds/marinaandrieski
Summary: edit: i forgot to add a summary im dumb okay"I don't know about you, Q, but if it doesn't work, I'll have enough rage to kill this twat with my own bare hands." Margo said."If what doesn't work?" A voice came from behind them. Quentin's heart skipped a beat. He knew that voice.Before Quentin could even turn around, there were arms around his waist and a chin on his shoulder. He could smell Eliot's shampoo, his cologne, every scent about him that he loved. He let out a soft cry as Eliot's long arms enveloped him.





	don't feel quite right

**Author's Note:**

> based on the third season of course but there are a few references to the books thrown in (nothing major).  
> i had two different plot lines in mind and the one i went with is the sad one but i may publish the other, happier one some other time  
> got my title from the song by the same title by palaye royale

"Do you think it'll work?" Quentin, too nervous to look at Eliot's body, whispered to Margo. "I mean if it doesn't, we'll have an all-powerful monster being, uh, thing pissed at us and we lose a... friend."

They had finally found a way to rid the monster and return Eliot to control of the body, but it was all a little sketchy, a little unsure. The ritual involved killing the body and making a new one from living clay into which the life force and soul would be transferred, which didn't seem possible. It could easily turn into a Margolem situation or maybe something even worse. The spell itself required was confusing and sloppily written in Old Church Slavonic, which Margo was never terribly good at and Quentin had forgotten. He had kinda shoved it to the back of his mind when he was grieving of Alice because it reminded him of her and the jokes she used to make. It was almost comedic to Quentin. He was so emotional back then that he forgot a whole language. He didn't tell Margo this though because honestly, that sounds sort of braggy. Despite the possible consequences, they were going to try the spell anyways because at the rate Not-Eliot was trashing Eliot's body, there would be hardly much left for Eliot to return to plus at least like three new addictions and it possibly still being there in the back of his mind.

"I don't know about you, Q, but if it doesn't work, I'll have enough rage to kill this twat with my own bare hands." Margo said.

"If what doesn't work?" A voice came from behind them. Quentin's heart skipped a beat. He knew that voice.

Before he could even turn around, there were arms around his waist and a chin on his shoulder. He could smell Eliot's shampoo, his cologne, every scent about him that he loved. He let out a soft cry as Eliot's long arms enveloped him.

Wait, Quentin thought, that doesn't make sense. This new body we made for Eliot shouldn't smell like him yet.

He whipped around and sure enough, Eliot was nowhere to be seen. A chilling giggle came from seemingly nowhere.

"Come play with me," a distorted voice rasped, coming from all around him.

Tears streamed down Quentin's face as he jerked upright out of his bed. His back was dripping with a cold sweat and his dark room felt boiling. Suddenly a strong sense of vulnerability wash over him. He felt paralyzed by fear and by loneliness and by the familiar ache of losing someone you loved. He let out a harsh sob and a cry for Margo.

Almost as if she was standing out in front of his door, she burst in. "Oh Q," she murmured, wrapping her soft arms around Quentin's frame. She pulled the covers over the two of them and held him firmly while he shook

***

Margo didn't need to ask what was wrong, she already knew. She had worriedly stood outside Q's door listening to him mumble Eliot's name in his sleep. When she heard his cry, she immediately knew he was having another nightmare. And so she climbed into the bed next to him and held him tight, letting him cry as hard as he needed. He sobbed and he sobbed and he sobbed until all that would come out were terrible wet hiccups. After what seemed like an eternity, Quentin finally fell asleep, but Margo didn't leave. If he had another nightmare, he would need her. And anyways, she liked the warmth and the closeness, something she hadn't had since she lost Eliot.

In the dark she watched Quentin's chest rise and fall slowly and tried to match it, which worked as poorly as it always does for everyone. She began to softly cry, burying her face into Quentin's shoulder. Despite how much she hated letting people see her cry, it was dark in the room and it was loud downstairs with a "classic" Physical Kid party still raging. Even so, Q was half asleep, he wouldn't remember in the morning if he even noticed.

Sleepily, he muttered, "S'okay Margo. He'll be back tomorrow." then gently planted a kiss on her forehead.

Margo chuckled and wiped away her tears. Sleepy Quentin was cute. Her favorite Quentin definitely, but he didn't ever make much sense. She ran her fingers through his soft hair, something Eliot always did for her when she was upset. God, she missed him so much. She missed how inseparable they were, how they did everything from studying to orgies together. One day it was just suddenly ripped from her without warning like band-aid, leaving an Eliot shaped hole in her. There were some days that the pain was so unbearable that she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed, and as much as she wished she hadn't let herself get like this, she was miserable. Every day was a drag. A joke would be cracked but he wasn't there to laugh. A tear would be shed but he wasn't there to wipe it. She felt so utterly fucking empty. It wasn't like she depended on Eliot for her own stability (because she's her own fucking woman, goddammit) but she was at the risk of losing the one thing that mattered in this world. She could function before when he was at risk of being lost, but there was something about this time that truly broke her. Maybe it was the fact that she had to live with his impersonator every day. Maybe it was the fact that he's still alive in there and she hasn't found a way to help him. Either way, she decided, she and Q needed to pull their shit together because Eliot wasn't going to save himself.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it!! this fic actually saved me from a horrible writers block ive been struggling with for a solid 6 months now so like thank god for Quentin's pain amirite  
> im on tumblr @hansonmargo come scream with me!!!!


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